


Dormito Somnium -or- To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

by PurpleFluffyCat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Courtship, Dreams, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fractured Fairy Tale, M/M, Magic, Marriage, Pre-Deathly Hallows, Project, Requited Unrequited Love, Same-Sex Marriage, Slash, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFluffyCat/pseuds/PurpleFluffyCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before marrying Tonks, Lupin feels that he has been manipulated into the situation and decides that it's time he made a decision for himself. Strange dreams and a project at the Ministry add to the mix, but to whom do the breadcrumbs lead?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part the First

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xterm](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=xterm).



> Bonus points for anyone who spots all of the fairy-tale references!

**Part One**

Remus lay still on the bed that used to be Bill's, - or perhaps Charlie's, or maybe even Ginny's - and definitely couldn't sleep. The moon had already crept across the night sky and disappeared from view, leaving the deserted early morning to its own inky blackness and the dilated pupils of a groom-to-be who was plagued by insomnia.

Across the room hung his matrimonial dress robes - _nicely flowing, some lace at the cuffs, and a touch of pink to match her lovely hair, dear_ \- expectantly perched upon their hanger as if they might be invaded and pupetted by a wandering ghoul at any moment. To accompany them were several home-made accessories - _you'll need a tie, and a scarf, not to mention special shoelaces_ \- embroidered with the initials NT &RL entwined together to the point of illegibility in a high-baroque font. The wool was scratchy, but on reflection Remus reflected that he had got away lightly; at one point he had been seriously worried the entire ensemble was going to be knitted. On the bedside table sat a box of cufflinks and studs that he had also promised to wear - _Mum gave them to Dad on their wedding day_ \- which spelt 'un-dy-ing lo-ve for ev-er' when aligned. The metal glinted even in this near-darkness, like several pairs of eyes winking about an in-joke to which Remus was not party.

Among it all, Remus just lay there, perfectly still, wondering at which point exactly had he agreed to all of this. 

His relationship with Tonks had indeed been a peculiar one. Any involvement that begins in wartime was prone to be unstable, particularly one that was acquiesced to at the sickbed of a close friend in order to prevent an embarrassing scene. The tumultuous months that followed had in some ways been lovely. Tonks was a good-natured girl, full of fun and joie de vivre, even in dark times. She had stopped Remus from descending into a pit of introspection and melancholy after Albus' death, keeping him distracted and always offering a joke or some goofy behaviour to make him laugh. Remus was never under the impression that they could really understand each other though - their minds' machinery was far too different for that to be possible. However, in each other they did find kindness and company, which was actually far more than Remus thought would be on offer to him; the middle-aged, battle-scarred werewolf that he was.

Then the war had tipped things on end, as of course it was want to do. Harry and his two friends had disappeared from headquarters on a mission of which no-one knew the details but everyone sensed was pivotal. Two months in, they reported some success but growing danger. Hermione had reasoned that the risks involved with breaching secrecy were now smaller than the threat of losing Harry's life, and had requested that they be joined by a guard of Aurors. Naturally all of the Order was keen to go, but as it turned out only those with official training were deputed - including Kingsley, Moody and Nymphadora. 

Remus and Tonks had bid one another a quiet farewell, and so it had remained for the rest of the war - Remus liaising with the British werewolves and staying at Grimmauld Place, Tonks and the others goodness-knows-where and out of contact. At the parting, Remus had felt suddenly alone, but he quickly realised the sensation was not entirely unpleasant. Initially he felt rather guilty for his apparent lack of pining for Tonks, but swiftly put such inclinations to the back of his mind. After all, they were in the middle of a war, and surely it was only natural that the acute situation would dull the thoughts of personal attachments? It did not occur to him that perhaps the moment for he and Tonks had passed; they had been good for some mutual healing and moral support but nothing more.

The end of the war had come suddenly, and in Remus' perception it was actually rather clean and distant - although it would not have been for those present at the final battle. The showdown between Harry and Voldemort had taken place on a bleak moor, miles from the nearest habitation. Voldemort had played dangerously, attempting to lure Harry into a deadly position by making himself open for an easy initial attack. The Dark wizard did not realise however that he had been so weakened by the loss of his Horcruxes, and the decision to accept that initial decoy blow would in fact be the last decision he would ever make. 

The corpse had immediately sublimated into a putrid gas, leaving the collected Death Eaters and Aurors motionless and dumbstruck in the eerie silence that had followed. Finally, the air was rent by a piercing female scream and with it came the first of the many curses that were thrown that afternoon. How ironic that it was only after the day had been won that the bloody battle commenced; in Remus' eyes that rather nicely symbolised the waste and pointlessness of the whole terrible war.

News of the victory and of their losses had reached Grimmauld Place by twilight. Minerva's face was torn between joy and sadness as she recounted the information, and she had seemed to gently crumple inwards, her work done. Harry and Ron were scratched but otherwise well, and although Hermione had needed to stay in St. Mungo's for several days, no lasting damage had been done. She had been lucky; reports state that the girl owed her life to the supposedly misdirected attention of a masked Death Eater who had deflected a killing curse before it hit her from behind. Remus imagined it likely that several curses and counter-curses could have reached the wrong targets in that vicious melee, but couldn't help feeling a strange curiosity for the unnamed man who helped his purported enemy. 

Moody seemed rather proud that he had acquired the need for yet another prosthetic limb, but some of the other Aurors had fared much more badly. Several were being treated for permanent spell damage - their best hope would be to regain consciousness with complete amnesia and to learn everything again from scratch - while some had horrific and debilitating physical injuries. 

The saddest news of all was that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been slain. Remus had not known him closely, but had respected his abilities and staunch dedication to the cause. Remus was grieved by the fact that he was to attend the funeral of a brave, strong and handsome man some ten years his junior; the ideas brought the ghosts of his lost friends to the forefront of his mind and he felt chilled by his own survival.

When he had met Nymphadora again, Remus felt as if he was seeing the ghost of a long-past life, even though the hiatus had been months, not years. Her appearance had been uncharacteristically drab - perhaps it was natural that she wouldn't want to use her metamorphagus abilities in the wake of such a trauma - and she said little while hugging Remus fervently, like a castaway in search of any piece of solid land. 

They had had little private time together in the following weeks other than a few evenings of watching Muggle movies together in Grimmauld Place when Tonks said that she wanted company but didn't much feel like talking; her eyes staring past the screen to a realm that Remus could neither see nor wished to examine as she clung to him. The frivolous fun-loving girl he had known seemed absent, replaced by a haunted waif who was nevertheless still kind, and to whom he did not begrudge any help he could offer. 

However, it had come as a complete surprise when on one such evening three weeks after her return, Tonks had said, "we need to get married," in an understated and even tone that brooked absolutely no argument. Remus had blinked in shock and smiled at her gently as words seemed suddenly absent. Then, as they had heard no refusal, the party who had been listening at the keyhole burst into the room and offered the Happy Couple their congratulations.

Remus remembered very little between then and now; now when he was apparently trying to sleep on the eve of his wedding. His closed his eyes once more and resolutely tried to rest.

Soft daylight was about him when Remus awoke, in quite different surroundings that seemed both unfamiliar and expected. The heavy brocade of the emerald-green bedspread felt weighty upon his form and the crisp white linen of his pillow made him feel preciously encased in this elaborate four-poster bed. Upon rising, he noticed that he was dressed in a light nightgown of the purest white and his mane of longish, unruly hair had been intricately braided. He glanced about the circular stone-clad room, noticing a fireplace, several gilded objects and a well-stocked larder, and then a startling crash and a deafening roar came from outside.

He darted to the nearest window and drew aside the tapestry that covered it. A brilliant white light flooded into the dim room, and Remus' eyes took almost unnaturally long to adjust before the extraordinary scene below came into focus.

It appeared that he was standing in the uppermost room of a high tower, surrounded by a murky-green moat thick with bulrushes and the occasional brave duck. Beyond lay a field which eventually surrendered to dense forest, and through that forest a creature of enormous size and ferocity seemed to be advancing, sending tree trunks out of its path as if they were mere twigs. Remus was transfixed with both horror and fascination at the sight, curious to know the identity of the awesome beast, yet vaguely fearful for his life because of it.

His patience was quickly rewarded however. A flash of scaly, vivid pink emerged from the trees belching blue fire, and followed by the rest of an enormous, peculiarly _female_ -looking dragon. The creature's wings were flapping in a clumsy, directionless manner and its thick pink hair (Remus wondered whether dragons usually had hair) whipped the air as it swished its head seemingly in search of something. After several minutes of this behaviour, the beast had clearly found its quarry. Its body had become still and its eyes were trained forward with narrowed pupils and rope-like eyelashes beating rhythmically. It sunk to the ground and began to stalk toward the tower, and Remus then realised with a cold sense of dread that the dragon had set its sights upon him.

Panic flooded his mind, but strangely Remus found himself incapable of formulating a plan of escape - no inclination of apparation or self-defence occurred to his paralysed brain. All he could do was stand and watch, fatalistically, as the beast approached, gaining in speed as it neared.

The dragon was then positively hurtling toward him, and as it galumphed forward Remus could make out the details of its appearance more clearly. Its lips seemed to be painted red, and a silvery tiara with a white veil rested upon its bony head, atop which sat a small red-haired witch who was urging the creature forward. Its clawed feet left great fissures in the grass as they passed; sharp and yellowed keratin digging into the soft earth. Occasionally an object on the front-left foot caught the light, and when he squinted, Remus could see a large gemstone worn upon a scaly digit.

The beast was practically upon him then, and Remus could feel the heat from its sulphurous breath as it eyed him through the arched window. He silently resigned himself to fate and death, and his unresponsive body couldn't even muster a scream as the huge reptilian claw reached toward him, seeking to capture and most probably consume.

Remus closed his eyes, awaiting the crushing pain and fire, but to his surprise, it did not come. Instead he then saw that the beast was retreating away from the tower, recoiling in surprise and fear from a dark figure on horseback, far below.

The brave knight pointed a lance at the animal and rode resolutely forward, driving the creature far away. His armour glinted and the breeze lifted the dark green brocade of the horse's drapings like a victorious flag. Remus felt a flush of love and gratitude for his saviour, and then all of a sudden the same dark man was with him, holding him, kissing him, coaxing him onto the soft feather bed...

Remus woke with a jolt, amazed and somewhat abashed to discover that he was sweaty and rock-hard. He tried to school his rebellious thoughts into some form of sense, reminding himself that it was only a dream, and could, after all, have any manner of obscure and irrelevant meanings. It was of course only natural that he might dream about being with a man on the eve of his wedding to a woman - his innate attraction to members of the same sex was a part of his identity that he was about to sacrifice forever on the altar of fidelity. It was therefore perfectly understandable for it to have a final unconscious swansong. Nothing at all to worry about. Really.

But Remus did feel worried, and as he lay there attempting to counsel himself and to try not to think about that dark, imaginary stranger, the dimness turned velvety and he could almost feel the man's lips upon his own between his hurried breaths.

The suspense finally became too much, and Remus sprang from the bed, determined to shake the thoughts away by changing his environment. He shrugged on a dressing gown and went to the door, deciding that he would rather sleeplessly read a book downstairs than lay there semi-drowsy and torture himself over misplaced lust for someone who probably didn't even exist.

The Weasley house had a tendency to creak under even the lightest footfall, so Remus was very careful not to make a noise as he moved onto the attic landing. It was three in the morning after all, and he hoped everyone else in the building would be peacefully in slumberland.

However, this was clearly not the case. Remus began to descend the stairs to the first floor, but stopped suddenly when he saw a figure on the landing below. In the dim light he could make out that the person was a woman, and she was pacing the landing in a distracted manner. Most strikingly, her silhouette revealed that she was heavily pregnant - at least eight months - and she frequently had to stop her steps to rub at a sore back and cradle the prominent bump. At first Remus wondered who on earth this might be - he certainly didn't know any women who were expecting a baby. He peered further through the gloom and realised that the woman's height and build looked familiar. In fact, the wavy shoulder-length hair made it look just like....

..."Nymphadora?" Remus flashed on a light as he spoke, and the illumination confirmed everything that he had suspected.

"Remus! Oh my God...What are you doing here?" Tonks instinctively tried to morph her appearance, closing her eyes in concentration as the pregnancy swiftly disappeared and her stomach nearly returned to its usual slender outline. However, she seemed to give up half-way through the transformation, and sighed heavily as she let her body return to its natural swollen shape. "Oh well, you've seen it now."

"You're... you're..." Remus was floundering.

"Pregnant. Yes, I'm so sorry."

"But, we haven't..." Remus knew he sounded slow, but could say nothing other than state the obvious. "...Not for over a year..."

"I know. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Then... who's...?"

"The father was Kingsley."

"Oh my God." If Remus hadn't been totally aghast by that point, he was then. It was bad enough that his bride-to-be was carrying another man's baby without having breathed a word to him about it. Worse still was the fact that the true father was lost from this world. Nymphadora was grieving, and alone, and in the middle of a deceit, and…"But we're going to get married!" Remus knew he sounded stupid, but the words had tumbled out of his mouth before he had given them consent to do so.

"I know. I'm so sorry Remus - I didn't know what else to do. Molly told me to. She thought it would be for the best; you know how unmarried mothers are treated by our society. And anyway, she said you wouldn't mind, because after all, well, you know, you're not exactly in demand, and should be grateful anyway and... Oh no, that sounded awful didn't it?"

"Not the most charming way of putting it." Remus mustered a dry smile.

"I'm glad you found me though. I couldn't sleep and I was feeling so dreadful about tricking you. I don't think I could have gone through with it tomorrow - not like this."

"Probably not the best basis upon which to start a marriage." Part of him wanted to stay quiet, but a rebellious streak needed to ask. "So when exactly were you planning to tell me? On the wedding night? Or was this just going to be sham marriage? Before you went away you said you loved me, and now..."

"I do love you Remus," Tonks replied, her eyes welling up with tears. "You're kind, and reliable and just the sort of person that someone ought to marry for a nice, stable..." Her words faltered, and it was obvious that she was losing faith in them.

"But you loved Kingsley too? Please be honest with me now."

Tonks swallowed hard, clearly deciding how much she should tell. She seemed to conclude that Remus deserved the whole truth from her and took a deep breath. "Yes, you're right. I loved him with my heart and soul and every fibre of my being. It was passionate. Like lightning. I'm sure the fright of the war heightens all of these things, but it was like nothing I have ever felt before in my life." Her voice shook and she looked down to the floor. "And now he's gone."

"Oh, Tonks." Remus felt betrayed, but couldn't honestly muster a show of anger or upset before this distraught creature. She clearly loved with a fire far stronger than anything he had ever felt and was now bereft, and totally adrift. He gathered her into his arms for a fatherly hug and patted her back gently as weeks of pent emotion racked her body with shuddering sobs. Meanwhile, Remus felt strangely numb, and distractedly wondered whether wedding dress-robes could be altered for sensible day-to-day use.

*****

The following morning, Tonks had the good grace to let everyone know that the wedding had been cancelled. Remus said a few terse goodbyes to the Weasleys and then hastily returned to the cold, damp flat he was renting at the edge of Hogsmeade, torn between sympathy for Tonks' predicament and anger for being played as a fool and a cuckold. 

He unpacked his meagre belongings, grimly thinking that he had been about to leave this nasty flat for good - Tonks' Ministry job came with a luxury apartment that would have easily accommodated two ( _not to mention three..._ Remus thought sourly), and then tried to console himself with the fact that however much he would have liked to have been comfortable, he wouldn't have wanted to live a lie.

Remus made himself a cup of weak tea and settled on the threadbare sofa with a box of dry crackers and a soggy apple, as that was the only food in the house. He was cold and tired, and totally thrown off-balance. Yesterday, it seemed the rest of his life had all been mapped out for him - wife, house, social-life, security - and today? Well, as far as he could tell, today held looking for thankless jobs that the Ministry deemed lowly enough for a werewolf to do, not having enough money to feed and clothe himself properly and curling up in bed every night alone and lonely.

As he sat and brooded, Remus realised that he actually felt more annoyed with himself than he did with Tonks. After all, being manipulated and deceived like that was about what he deserved after wafting along so passively into this whole situation and dancing incessantly to someone else's tune. It was high time he made a decision for himself that did not revolve around seeking approval or merely foraging for a way to fit in. All he would ever receive from society was crumbs if he never asked for anything more, and Remus now felt purely ridiculous that it had taken an incident of such dramatic proportions to finally make him wake up and realise the truth.

In a wave of determination, he vowed that he would go and prove Molly Weasley wrong! He would show the world that Remus Lupin had prospects and could find the love of his life if he only set his sights in the right place and grew some backbone. He would go and chase the gorgeous dark knight in his dream if he had to, but either way it was time for Remus Lupin to wake up and stop being so bloody spineless!

With such a thought, Remus resolutely marched to bed, smartly extinguishing the table lamp and falling asleep from stress and exhaustion almost immediately. 

He next found himself underwater, and wasn't as surprised as he might have been to discover he could breathe without a problem and that his hips tapered down into a long glistening tail instead of his customary two (or four) legs. Instead, he was suddenly struck by a terrible yearning, as if the thing he wanted most in the world was beyond his reach, and the feeling that he must try everything within his power to try to obtain it.

Gazing about, he found himself floating in a cavern. The walls and floor were covered with marine life - corals and seagrass clung to the crumbling rocks and provided a home for many small colourful fish. Intermingled with these mossy clumps were various small everyday objects - cutlery, a compass, a faded painting - which had been hoarded, polished and displayed with the utmost care. Upon seeing these knick-knacks, Remus felt an overwhelming surge of protectiveness and was compelled to swim over to the nearest wall to admire them. His hands reached through the billowing cloud of his own long, red hair to alight upon a bottle. It was small, made from thick glass and was carefully sealed to contain a dark purple liquid. Remus did not know why, but he experienced an overwhelming conviction that the contents of that bottle were vitally important. Swimming to the opposite side of the cave, he then came upon a small enamel cameo painting on silver, and the portrait that was depicted there gave Remus the impetus to swim like a dart from the cave, setting a course for the ocean's surface.

It was difficult to breathe in the dry air, but Remus struggled to do so nonetheless as he peered up to the deck of the great wooden ship. His struggles were rewarded however, as _he_ was standing there, - brooding and mysterious and clad in light linen that skimmed his lean, sunkissed torso. Remus merely watched in awe for several minutes as the beautiful, dark-haired man strolled around the deck and slouched upon the piles of spare rigging. Then the man locked eyes with him, his gaze intense and hungry.

At first, Remus felt an overwhelming sense of hopelessness, trapped as he was in this watery domain. However, he then remembered the bottle, and unquestioningly drank the dense purple liquid within in one gulp. A strange glow overcame his field of vision, and then Remus felt himself gently floating toward the deck of the ship. His tail was changing into a pair of solid legs, and as he descended toward the wooden surface he was caught and cradled by the amazing, captivating man, who scoured him with dark eyes and then kissed him passionately, their mouths melting together into an eternity of soft warmth…

Remus woke gently this time, trying to hold on to the memory of his beloved sailor, but the impression of his lover's features slipped away as consciousness imposed itself. He pressed his lips together as if the delicious sensation of the dreamtime kiss could somehow be recaptured, and tried to lie perfectly still, savouring the vestiges of virtual sensuality.

 _Who is that man?_ The question rolled around in Remus’ mind and he found it difficult to dismiss, because for some reason Remus now felt absolutely sure that he had met the man in his dream before; perhaps a lifetime ago, but certainly in the real, corporeal world and not merely in his (rather over-active) imagination. 

Remus pondered the case for some minutes as the dull afternoon light flooded through the thin curtains and brought his shabby bed-sit into stark relief. He couldn't think of any likely candidates for a crush - his circle of acquaintance had been rather small of late, and certainly none of the werewolves with whom he had been liaising would pass as totty. No, this man was one-of-a-kind; suave, clever, tempestuous, and called to Remus with such sexual magnetism as he had never before felt. Merely the realisation of that sent shivers along Remus' spine, and he reflected vaguely that he had indeed made a lucky escape from a lifetime of bland pleasantness as Mr. Nymphadora Tonks.

Unfortunately, that notion brought Remus crashing inelegantly back to the present. He recalled that within the last twelve hours he had lost a potential life partner, somewhere relatively nice to live and probably a large number of his so-called friends. _Oh, bugger._

Also remembering his resolution to build a brave new life however, Remus made an arbitrary decision. For want of a better idea in his newly rudderless life, Remus vowed that he would find out who the mystery man in his dreams really was, and pursue him to the end of the earth if need be. What Remus Lupin needed, after all, was some direction in life, and he reasoned that if kisses like that weren't sufficient motivation, he certainly didn't know what was.

Remus got up from the bed, smoothing his rumpled clothes and cursing the fact that his sleep patterns were no doubt now out of kilter. He was vaguely considering what to do about dinner, when his eyes alighted upon a small, cooing ball of fluff on the floor that upon closer inspection seemed to be an owl.

 _That's funny,_ thought Remus, _I didn't expect anyone to get in contact with me now...surely they are all too busy looking after Nymphadora… and I didn't think any of the Weasleys were the type to send hate-mail…_

Nevertheless, Remus reached toward the creature and untied the carefully folded piece of parchment from its tiny leg. The owl fixed Remus with huge, entreating eyes and he found himself apologising out loud for the lack of any proper food in the house. If it was possible for an owl to sniff haughtily, it did then, and flew daintily to the window ledge in preparation for exit.

Feeling more sensitive than usual about the disdain of a post-owl, Remus read the message, which appeared in tidy script, as follows:

> _Dear Remus,_
> 
> _I heard about what happened, and I imagine that you are now feeling pretty isolated. I'm available to talk, and think that you should accept my invitation for dinner this evening. Please apparate to Diagon Alley and meet me in Madam Whittleworth's at 8pm._
> 
> _With best wishes,  
>  from,_
> 
> _Hermione_

Remus was thoroughly surprised. He had always been on cordial terms with Hermione, had clearly seen her cleverness when he had been her teacher and had come to respect her as an equal during the war. He had not however, ever had a particularly personal interaction with her. Indeed, Remus had always thought of Hermione as just like Harry and Ron, only more sensible – in other words, part of the package that comes as the Grand Weasley Welcome to which he was now, no doubt, no longer party.

Checking the mantelpiece, he was surprised to discover that the time was in fact, almost 8 o’clock. Remus mentally sighed and reflected that he didn’t honestly have anything else to do this evening, all things considered. This notion and his natural obedience combined to result in Remus stepping into his modest fireplace and announcing, "Diagon Alley"; he didn't have the energy to apparate.


	2. Part the Second

**Part Two**

Madam Whittleworth's was a small but friendly establishment tucked along a side street that led off from Diagon Alley proper. It served simple but good quality home-made fayre - the kind of place that one would choose for a comforting plate of bangers and mash when trendy tofu nobu just wouldn't do. Although Remus turned up at not-much past eight, Hermione had already arrived and was seated at a lace-covered table in a cosy alcove. She stood up and smiled warmly when he approached, bushy hair bouncing over her forehead.

"Remus! Jolly sensible of you to come," she said, and smartly gestured for him to sit down opposite her. 

Remus returned her smile somewhat awkwardly, then added, "Well, it's not exactly as if I had other plans..."

"No, I suppose not." She looked calculating for a few seconds and then seemed to make a decision. "We can talk about that if you'd like, but I rather imagined that you'd like a complete break from thinking about it. How about we talk about something else?"

Remus felt himself almost physically sag with relief – some breathing-space away from his newly-found predicament was indeed exactly what he wanted at the moment. "That would be wonderful; thanks."

"Ok, would you like to order? I would recommend the game pie, - or the roast beef is also very good."

Remus nodded vaguely, realising that he was sufficiently ravenous for pretty much anything to look appealing.

"Good, that's settled then!" Hermione gestured to the middle-aged waiting-witch - who was actually Madam Whittleworth's great-granddaughter - and ordered two portions of game pie with vegetables, and lots of fresh orange juice. "You _are_ looking rather peaky Remus, it’s important to keep your vitamin levels up."

Remus made an apologetic sort of nod, and then cast about for a topic of conversation. When nothing particularly riveting sprung to mind, he rather lamely alighted on a generic opening gambit. "So what is it you're actually doing at the moment, Hermione - remind me?"

"Oh, nothing much," she said, theatrically rolling her eyeballs at the unsatisfactory situation. "I want to study further - to train to work in the Department of Mysteries - because the concept of Time is so terribly interesting, you know - but of course the Ministry is still reeling from the war, and they haven't sorted out the next wave of internships yet. It will probably take those dreadful bureaucrats months to put things back on track. I am however, fully signed up, and they promise that my NEWT grades will make me the top of their list when recruiting starts again in a month."

"Ah, I see, that's annoying," replied Remus, "But I suppose that gives you plenty of time to work on SPE- ....I mean the err... Society for the Promotion for Elvish Welfare."

Hermione chose not to notice Remus' hasty self-correction and answered earnestly, "Oh, Dobby has rather taken that over now. He said - with all due respect, of course - that the elves were rather put off by a human leading the operation and that the Society would have more luck among the populous if an actual elf were to be its front-man. I didn't want to step on his toes, of course, so I have taken a back seat in that one – aside from doing all the behind-the-scenes work and strategy-formulation of course. I do, however, have a new cause to champion now."

"Oh, really?" Remus enquired mildly, secretly glad that he was to be spared another rant about elf-rights. "What's that then?"

"Snape. Severus Snape."

Hermione smiled in a smug manner while Remus nearly choked on his orange juice.

"Snape! That lying, cheating, murdering, death-eating bastard! He killed Albus Dumbledore! Why on earth would you be interested in him?!" Remus felt slightly embarrassed as he noticed that several of the other diners had turned towards their table in response to his outburst.

Hermione looked perfectly prepared for this onslaught however, and seemed ready to rattle off a speech that she had recited countless times before. "Because he was working for Professor Dumbledore the whole time," she stated, raising her hand to silence Remus' protestations. "Much as everyone would like to frame Snape as the evil, murderous traitor, it just simply isn't the case. He has endured more than the rest of us put together in this awful war, balanced precariously as a double-agent in Voldemort's service while the very people he was working to help hated him with a passion and wanted him dead."

Remus' mind was reeling as he heard this bizarre theory; he vaguely wondered whether Hermione had suffered some kind of permanent spell-damage in the final battle. She did however, look perfectly _compos mentis_ and had been given a clean bill of health after a very detailed examination by the mediwitches...

...When Remus emerged from his speculations, he found that Hermione was still talking. "...It does seem only the good and decent thing to do after all, and because, on top of all that, he saved my life, Remus. I'm certain that Snape was the Death Eater who stopped the _Avada Kedavra_ from hitting me in the final battle. I want to clear his name, bring him back into Wizarding Society and let the world know that he is being unfairly persecuted."

She smiled triumphantly, and Remus was suddenly aware that it was now his turn to say something. His mind was a confused blank, but he heard himself blurt, "What on earth gave you this crazy idea?!" and then realised quite how tactless it had sounded.

Hermione was unruffled however. "Oh, I have done my research, and I trust my sources," she said confidently. "A far greater task will be putting together the case so that it will stand up in court. That's where you are going to help me." 

"Yes,” Remus said vacantly, “...Hang on! I'm going to do _what?_ "

"Help me." She spoke slowly and patiently. "Help me to research the case and clear Severus' name so that he can return to Wizarding Society. You are at a loose end now, after all, and a distraction of this type will definitely do you good."

Remus felt that the conversation was cantering ahead at a pace much faster than he could follow. It was of course true - he did now have plenty of free time and a strange empty space in his life where he had thought would be a wife and home. Much as he would like to devote his time to finding the mystery man from his dreams, in truth he had absolutely no leads, so that could hardly become a full-time occupation. Perhaps a project would be good for him; it would give a focus to his newly lonely and dreary days. 

But _Snape?_ How could Remus even begin to accept Hermione's story about that man's innocence? It seemed implausible, and all of Remus’ childish prejudices reared up angrily at the very idea. On the other hand, the girl was commonly known as the cleverest witch of her generation, and her track record for being right in such controversial circumstances was extremely good. Also, Remus had long been less than proud of his part in the Marauders’ adolescent feuds. Now - when his world had just changed unrecognisably around him - was surely a good time to make a clean break from such cruel sentiments and to stop making decisions based upon what the others would have thought. Perhaps he should just trust her confidence and agree?

Remus decided to hedge his bets. "Ok, say, just hypothetically, I was to agree to this, what exactly would we do about it?" He moved in his chair, trying not to let his curiosity show.

Hermione looked smug, as if she could now reel in her catch. "Well, the last potion that Snape brewed before he left Hogwarts had a distinctive magical signature that was detected by the forensic Aurors. It was Dormito Somnium." She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Remus shifted uncomfortably and was eventually compelled to say, "Erm… if you could just remind me what exactly…"

"Oh, Severus was absolutely right you know, you never did pay attention in Potions, did you Remus?"

"Erm, well…" He squirmed once more, and then became indignant, "Anyway, what do you mean 'Severus was absolutely right'?!"

"Never mind that now." She replied tartly. "Dormito Somnium is a potion that modifies and extends the powers of a Legilimens such the magic can work over distance and without the need for eye contact.”

Remus wrinkled his nose at this news. “Oh great, I’m sure that makes us all feel very safe! – so now he can read people’s minds from miles away?”

“Not exactly.” Hermione gave Remus a school-mistress look, and he was uncannily reminded of being in Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration classes. “With this potion, the Legilimens has access only to thoughts that float to the surface of the subconscious – in other words what is upon the subject’s mind when he or she is asleep. Therefore, the technique offers a more random-access approach than regular Legilimancy; it might yield nothing of consequence, but it might reveal an important reaction or piece of information that would be otherwise inaccessible when the subject is awake and censoring their thoughts. In fact, the potion might reveal something so deeply buried the subject would not even admit it to themselves. 

"This is all terribly interesting of course, but the real value of the Potion in our case is that it allows the flow of information in both directions. The Legilimens can introduce thoughts and ideas into the subject’s mind.”

“So he’s putting thoughts into people’s heads? That’s just like mind-control! Surely it should as illegal as the Imperius curse?”

“No, not at all, it's much more subtle,” replied Hermione, “The suggestions introduced using Dormito Somnium will only work if the subject is naturally disposed to believe and to trust in them – in other words if they innately have faith in the Legilimens. Of course the messages can often turn out garbled, as the Legilimens has no control over how the subject's subconscious will interpret the information - the combined results can be quite colourful! Anyway, if used correctly, the potion can provide a useful form of communication, and it was employed throughout history as a way for lovers to keep in touch when circumstances forbade conventional contact."

"I don't think Severus Snape has a lover," Remus said scornfully.

"No, neither do I - not yet, anyway." Hermione seemed to suppress a smirk before she continued, "On the other hand, there are most probably people - somewhere out there - who would be receptive to a message about his innocence. It would be very narrow to view a human being as either one-hundred percent good or bad. The world is not painted in black and white, and many would like to have more faith in human nature than often seems reasonable."

"Ok, I see," said Remus, "the task would therefore be to find whoever Snape is attempting to communicate with and decode their dreams." He paused for a moment, running through the possibilities of where this enquiry might lead. He had to admit, it sounded interesting. “Would the err, _subject_ as you put it, have any idea that their mind was being infiltrated?”

“Not unless they were specifically looking for signs of Legilimancy. They would probably just be aware of having had a particularly vivid dream when they awoke. So, are you in then? You never know, you might even enjoy it.”

“Oh, all right then.”

“Marvellous, we'll start tomorrow. Meet me outside the Ministry building on Baker Street.” Hermione beamed with satisfaction.

Remus told himself that this persuasive young woman before him had twisted his arm, but his inner-Marauder was certainly intrigued by the case. For the first time in months, he had to admit, Remus Lupin felt actively interested in something.

At that point Miss Whittleworth junior brought two steaming crocks of game pie to the table and the conversation relaxed to more mundane matters – the weather, Quidditch, the latest Muggle dentistry developments. Remus decided he was pleased to have been bullied out of his flat after all.

*****

Following a long evening, Remus returned to a deep – and thankfully dreamless - sleep, then rose early and apparated to the appointed place of rendezvous. It was unfortunately a part of London that he knew well. The Registry for Sentient Magical Creatures was housed in the same building as that which they apparently used for storage of evidence related to dangerous criminals, and Remus had often been obliged to visit the Werewolf Administration Office – either for his bi-annual documentation check or to complain about a particularly unlawful piece of discrimination he had suffered. The complaints rarely did any good. The Ministry officials were just as sneering as any employer who had refused a job, or innkeeper who had refused a night's shelter, and Remus was in rather a dark mood from these thoughts when Hermione bounced toward him.

“Good morning, Remus,” she greeted him, “I'm so pleased you didn't get cold feet.”

“Well, its not like I was coming here to get married or anything, is it?” he replied ruefully, although his warm smile told Hermione he was bearing up well; almost _too_ well, all things considered.

“Mmmm. Not today, at least.” She turned quickly toward the nearest lamppost, not giving Remus time to question the cryptic remark, and busied herself at tracing the shapes of the mundane-looking electrical box, as required for entry. A few moments later, the lamppost produced a buzzing sound and a disembodied voice announced, “Access granted.” A nearby man-hole cover began to revolve, and then moved to one side to reveal the entrance to a subterranean staircase. Hermione and Remus descended and emerged in the building's main lobby – not quite as grand as that of the primary Ministry premises, but nevertheless lined with several Floo points and a rather dubious statue of a smiling werewolf in chains. Hermione smartly proceeded to the reception desk and was warmly greeted by the small and balding wizard who was stationed there.

“Ah, Miss Granger!” her said, standing to shake her hand in both of his. “So lovely to see you again! Any idea when you're going to be joining us properly?”

“Alas, not for another month at least. I don't need to tell you how slowly the administration department works around here, my dear Hubert.”

“Yes, yes, indeed. So what can I do for you my dear?”

“I'd like the key to room 774 again please.” She smiled at him winningly, accompanied by a batting of eyelashes that would put the wing-beat of a hummingbird to shame.

“Now Hermione, you know I wasn't really supposed to...”

“Yes Hubert, but I can tell your mind is so much superior to all of those petty rules and regulations.” She touched him gently on the forehead, as if to enhance her point. He began to blush.

“Ah, well...as it’s you. Make sure you give them back to me when you leave, though.”

“Yes, of course. It's so very kind of you.” Hermione sent Hubert another dazzling smile as she accepted the key, making the blush climb to the roots of his hair. She then marched smartly to the nearest elevator and gestured for Remus to follow.

“Useful being a girl, then, is it?” Remus asked.

“At times, yes,” Hermione replied unabashedly. She pressed the elevator button for the 23rd floor. The lift ground downwards and the doors then opened upon a dark and narrow corridor with a sign that read “Wizengamot Evidence Pending” on the wall. Hermione led the way to room 774 and opened the door to reveal a small room, completely empty except for a desk and chair and a neat stack of filled cardboard boxes in the centre.

“I'd like you to examine the contents of these and make a note of anything that seems interesting. We particularly need to know the names and identities of anyone Severus may have felt close to, as they will of course be the most likely recipients of dream-contact.”

“But what exactly is in the boxes?” Remus asked, somewhat puzzled.

“All of Snape's papers – books, letters, diaries – that sort of thing. They were seized from his Yorkshire home and from his Hogwarts chambers by the Aurors.”

“You want _me_ to read _Snape's private diaries?!_ Are you mad, Hermione? He would quite literally kill me! Surely you know that he's the most secretive person on the planet?”

“Oh, don't be silly,” she said dismissively, “Severus is enough of a pragmatist to realise that the cause justifies the means. When he is a free man again, he would probably kill you if he thought that you could have helped but you refused to do the right thing. I suggest you work through it methodically, in chronological order. Now, I must attend to something else,” and with that, Hermione swept out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Remus was left alone, and dumbly staring at the pile of boxes. He felt wary – almost as if he were expecting Snape to jump out at him and chastise him on the spot. After a few minutes, Remus realised this was unlikely to happen, so he began to contemplate his task. He gingerly approached the cardboard tower and cast a charm to highlight any dark magic or protective spells about it. Nothing was evident however – either the Aurors had already removed any such spells or Snape had counted upon his belongings never falling into the wrong hands. Upon closer inspection, the boxes were all dated – beginning with the year he – and Snape, he supposed – was born, and ending at the present.

According to Hermione's instructions, Remus selected the earliest box and lifted it away from the pile. He removed the parcel tape and lifted off the lid at arms' length, as if some dreadful ghoul might jump out at him. No such thing happened, however; when Remus peered into the box he saw merely a modest collection of papers and the odd soft-looking lump. On the top of the pile were two certificates dated 1957. From the wording and the material used he could tell that one was Wizard and that one was Muggle. Both detailed the marriage of a certain Eileen Anastasia Prince to a particular Tobias Anthony Snape. Beneath them laid a birth certificate for a certain Severus... _Norman_...Snape.

Remus' laugh echoed around the bare room. _Norman!_ No wonder Snape had always kept his middle name a closely guarded secret. This amusing discovery somehow broke the ice between Remus and his strange task, and he began to think that the job might not be so terrible after all. What else would he find? Working through the box systematically, Remus came across a newspaper clipping announcing the baby's birth, and then of all things, a photograph! Eileen Prince looked flushed and healthily rounded from her recent pregnancy, and was smiling from the photo with smugly proud reference to the bundle she was holding. Remus peered at the small swaddle of white linen in the picture, and then two dark – and amazingly familiar – baby eyes opened and peered back, almost as if they could sense his attention. Remus found himself smiling - Severus' imperiousness had clearly been established when he was only a few days old!

Beneath that photograph were several others that together documented the first few years of Severus' life. There was Severus playing with toy dragons, Severus asleep in his cot, Severus being taken for a walk in his pram, - even Severus in the bath! Remus felt slightly perplexed to realise just how _cute_ the child in the photographs looked. Beneath his unruly mop of dark hair lay cupid's-bow lips, rosy cheeks and wide eyes that were always intently concentrating on something just out of the picture. Remus wondered what it was that baby Severus was thinking.

In the same bundle, Remus found another piece of parchment, but this one was far from official. It was headed 'Severus Snape, Age 5' and featured the alphabet and numerals carefully copied along with several other writing exercises. The hand was somewhat shaky and child-like but Remus could discern the odd stroke and finial that was to evolve into the spidery script that struck terror into the hearts of generations of Hogwarts students when scrawled across their essays. Again, he smiled.

After this, there was a large gap in the record, as the next document was the familiar letter inviting Severus to take up his place at Hogwarts, aged eleven. Remus mused that the format and wording of these letters had not changed at all in over twenty years, and wondered how many generations of wizards had identical copies of such letters in some treasured family record. Beneath the Hogwarts letter was a handwritten piece from the same year, which read,

> _Dear Severus,_
> 
> _I hope you are settling in well and have made some friends in your new house. As you know, I was in Slytherin and fared well there. It is a proud place, but don't let the pureblood fascists give you the wrong idea. A true Slytherin is clever and ambitious and makes the very best of his situation, whatever that might be._
> 
> _You should have plenty of clothes to last the term, but do make sure you leave them out for the house elves to wash and mend as need be. I shall send some dress robes as and when you need them - do let me know. Also, I know you were terribly upset to leave Bobo behind, but good news! I have found him, and will send him along directly, just after I have removed the last of the Kneazle fur._
> 
> _With much love,  
>  from,_
> 
> _Mother_

Remus read through the letter several times before placing it to one side. He found it strangely touching - he had known Snape for most of his life, but had never really considered his home life, his family, or indeed, how he would have fared as a young half-blood in Slytherin. On reflection, things couldn't have been easy. Snape would have been shunned by those in his own house for his mongrel lineage, and equally disliked by others for his house association - the poor boy had seen the worst of both worlds. It was good that Eileen Prince had clearly seemed to care for young Severus, but Remus wondered what became of her. Was she living? If so, how would she feel about the public hatred of her only son? 

In its own way, Remus thought the letter provided a charming snapshot of a moment in the past - a moment of new beginnings, trepidation and some hope. He also wondered who Bobo was - who was it that Snape would have been so upset to have left behind? Could this be a clue to the identity of his present ally? In a moment of excitement Remus dug further through the box, hoping to unearth more information. He was largely disappointed however, - the soft lumps underneath the papers and photographs mostly turned out to be non-descript and rather manky pieces of linen and blanket that had not seen the light of day for some years. Remus was just about to turn to another box, but he was just then surprised to feel something disc-shaped and solid in the middle of one of the blanket rolls. He unfurled the bundle, and the disc turned out to be a small name-tag that spelt 'BOBO'. Most surprisingly, the disc was attached to a dark brown velveteen teddy bear that clearly showed signs of years of cuddles, as the fur on his muzzle and paws was wearing distinctly bald.

Remus was taken aback, but his surprise could not stop a large and fond smile blossoming over his face. He imagined Severus Snape - the man who everyone assumed had had his feelings surgically removed at birth - snuggling with a cute, fluffy teddy bear, which he had clearly kept safe for all of these years. Suddenly Snape did not seem so imposing after all.

Turning to the next box, Remus was now feeling pretty excited. What else would he find? He felt himself becoming curious about Snape as a person in his own right, not merely the subject of a distracting task. 

Removing the large lid, Remus saw seven years’ worth of Hogwarts school-books, neatly stacked. The titles of the curriculum texts had hardly changed between his own school days and the present, so he was more than familiar with the volumes, as both student and teacher. Remus casually reached toward one of them - a Transfiguration textbook for second years - and opened it somewhere at random. Instead of the usual neat columns of text however, the print was almost obscured by reams of intense marginalia. Remus squinted at the tiny, spiky handwriting and he quickly realised that this was not mere school-boy doodling. In fact, it seemed that the jottings made here served both as academic notes and a personal log. It was easy to see that Severus had been well above the expected standard for his age - many of the additions he made had been subtle corrections to the text, or references to more complex primary sources. There were clearly first drafts of essays hiding among the printed words, and also magical observations that were nothing to do with the set work - Severus had always been one for private research, it seemed.

It was the non-academic comments, however, that really interested Remus. Dotted among the pages of this book - and of several others that Remus scanned - were shopping lists, Quidditch scores, logs of house points that Severus had earned (most of which seemed to come from Slughorn for 'excellent work in Potions') and cryptic observations of other people. _'CB in foul mood today', 'Fluxweed hates the weekends but is possibly a good friend', 'AJ hanging around the lake no end - what does he know?'_ and in bolder, shakier script, _'RL cruel and evil', 'Eaglescum can go to hell', 'Frostbite should know better. He will pay.'_ Of course, the identities of the people mentioned were coded in a way understood only by Severus, but even so, these jottings gave Remus a strong sense of connection with the boy who had written them. Severus’ young life was mapped out through the pages of these books - from week to week one could trace the use of a new quill, a head-cold that attacked then passed, and if one looked more closely, friendships that waxed and waned, ambition and achievement, glory and disappointment.

After some time spent reading the books in chronological order, Remus became more adept at tracing the thoughts that lie within. He learned that Severus' so-called friends had been fickle at best and manipulative at worst, forever holding Severus' blood status over him as a form of mockery and bribery. In the rare self-descriptive entries, Severus seemed unhappy with his appearance - _'Why am so scrawny???'_ , family - _'Mother never writes, Father a wastrel,_ and place in the school - _'Slytherins mean, others meaner'_. He did however have a keen sense of humour, for among the notes were sharply-observed caricatures: Dumbledore becoming caught in his own beard as if in a giant spiders' web, Hagrid doing advanced Calculus, and Lucius Malfoy's head expanding in a series of frames until it actually exploded and made a mess over his plush dress-robes. At this, Remus found himself laughing out loud, and he was taken aback as the sound of his own voice echoed harshly around the small room and shook him from his reverie.

Remus then realised quite how many hours had passed, seemingly in the blink of an eye. He had studied the books from years one to four of Severus' time at Hogwarts and it was nearly time for Hermione to arrive and deliver the keys back to Hubert at reception. He felt slightly abashed to consider that he didn't have very much to report that might be of use to the case, and therefore decided to magically copy the remaining school-books and shrank the copies so that they would fit in a pocket - perhaps he could unearth something useful if he continued his work that evening. Feeling somewhat more confident, he reached for a fifth-year volume, opened it at the first page, and was stunned to find just three words written neatly in a margin: 'Am in Love.'

Remus didn't understand why his heart jumped to his throat when reading that short declaration, but it did nevertheless. His fingers seemed to have lost their precision as he leafed urgently through the following pages trying to find some other reference, but the book remained annoyingly taciturn, returning to its usual round of lecture notes and homework. Remus shut the book in irritation, but as he gazed upon its cover a memory flowed to the front of his mind. The text was 'Intermediate Charms for Young Wizards', and Remus distinctly remembered being taught that part of the course by Flitwick. In those lessons he had sat next to Alice Frodscuttle (soon to be Longbottom), and the Gryffindor crowd had been partnered with…yes, the Slytherins! 

Of course, the Gryffindor and Slytherin cohorts had shared classes before fifth-year, but Remus felt almost illogically pleased that his own history might be linked with the day on which Severus had confided to his diary in class. He told himself that his memories could shed light on the case at hand, so he started again at the beginning of the charms volume, trying to prize any recollections of the lessons that passed from his mind as he did so. His patience was quickly rewarded, as upon closer inspection some more tiny, neat print could be spotted among the scrawl: _'so near and yet so far,'_ followed by, _'why could this never be?'_ and finally, _'He is beautiful.'_ The last of those comments made Remus catch his breath, and his mind was inexplicably flooded with clouds, lust and fancy, as if within a dream. Severus Snape had been in love with a _boy._ He was looking glazed and distracted when Hermione presently breezed into the room and announced that they had to leave.

They returned the keys as required and ascended back to street level, then Hermione asked Remus whether he had found any clues regarding personal attachments that Snape might have had.

Of course, the sensible answer to that question would have been 'yes,' but for some reason Remus found himself unable to discuss the titbits he had uncovered. Instead, he made a dismissive comment about needing more time, and Hermione gave him a long-suffering look that spoke volumes about how she judged his reading speed. 

Apparating home, Remus did not want to ponder why he had suddenly felt so possessive about Snape's secrets, but something inside him stirred, clearly wanting to know more. He made himself a rather frugal dinner and then prepared to sit up in bed, reading-light poised and the stack of Severus' copied school-books to his side, expanded back to their full size in readiness. He began to read, and ploughed through several hundred pages. As time progressed in the books, the references to Severus' romantic interest became more frequent, but also more encoded. It was clear that the love had remained unrequited, but as the record passed from one year to the next, Severus seemed to have grown into his own feelings and had learned how to better understand and cope with them. The attention he paid to his would-be lover was remarkable: _'His cheekbones leave hollows, but glow slightly when he smiles,' 'One fingernail always seems shorter than the rest - was it hurt?'_ and _'His gaze is usually guarded; why?'_ Remus began to feel that whoever he had received all of this consideration should have at least showed a little gratitude for it - surely Severus' interest would have been noticed by the party in question? Then again, he mused, fellow Slytherins were not known for their kindness, and teenage boys in general were not known for their perceptiveness.

Remus reached for yet another volume and continued reading. Many unremarkable pages went by, and the book upon his lap became increasingly heavy – almost as heavy as his eyelids – until it suddenly seemed to be a very large basket full of laundry. A broad and imposing woman was shouting at him to work harder, so he scuttled quickly out of her way, along a long and dark stone corridor.

High, arched windows informed Remus that twilight was falling, and for some reason, he suddenly felt enormously dejected. He looked down upon his clothes that were mere rags, and fell to his knees in despair. The world seemed utterly hopeless.

The passageway was silent at first save for Remus’ dainty sobs, but after a few minutes a light squeaking sound could be heard, becoming louder as it became nearer. The noise grabbed Remus' attention, and looking down, he saw that a group of small brown mice has assembled around his knees, and they were all bearing sewing equipment – needles and thread, buttons, sequins. They urged him to follow them, and he did – out of the corridor, into a tiny hallway and up a narrow spiral staircase, round and round until he was dizzy.

Upon reaching the top, he pushed open the rough wooden door, and an extraordinary display met his eyes – the most elaborate gown he had ever seen, upon a mannequin in that dingy attic room. Its colour was the deepest emerald green, with silver embroidery and lace making intricately woven snake patterns across the bodice. Layers of tulle billowed forth from the waist, and atop that drapes of satin and velvet completed the long train of the skirt. Remus stared at the garment in wonder and feelings of disbelief washed through his mind.

Suddenly, a blinding flash of light obscured Remus' vision, and when he regained sight he found himself wearing the gown and confronted by a tall and somewhat stern-looking young woman with bushy brown hair and large fairy-wings.

"Well, come along then, you can't go to the ball looking like that," she said. The fairy-woman did not give Remus the chance to reply before she transported him away to an outdoor grotto. She collected some objects that were lying haphazardly on the ground, and with a swish of the wand transfigured a bludger into a silver coach, attended by six woodlice that had been turned into footmen. 

Remus boarded the delicate vehicle and it immediately sped away over rolling hills and toward a large castle that grew from the horizon. Upon sighting the imposing building, Remus was filled with a sense of enormous longing, as if his heart's desire lay within. The coach stopped at the magnificent entrance and he alighted, seemingly gliding across the ground in his fantastic costume until he was greeted by rows upon rows of faceless flunkies that all smiled and urged him forward. He was moving faster now, urgent to meet the person whose sleek silhouette appeared at the far end of the grand hall. Someone tall, and handsome, and finely dressed, who was becoming nearer, and nearer, and -

RRRIIIINNNGGG!

Remus woke with a start. It was late morning, and his neck was painfully stiff from the semi-upright position in which he had been sleeping. That did little to detract from the whirl in his mind however and the throbbing within certain parts of his body. He was sure that he would have been able to identify the beautiful creature of his subconscious, if only he had had a few more seconds! His body tingled with denied touch, and his mouth was hot and dry from imagined kisses. Three nights, almost in a row - this preoccupation was clearly more serious than he had initially thought.

Remus' mind wandered a little, and was then quickly brought back down to earth as his eyes alighted upon Severus' textbook that had fallen to the side of the bed. 

Severus.

Surely it wasn't Severus, he thought, - it couldn't be! They had feuded with one another for almost all of their lives, - or at least his friends had, - Remus swiftly corrected himself. More importantly, Remus thought angrily, Snape was a murderer and a traitor, a cold-blooded Death Eater and a cruel lap-dog of the vanquished Voldemort. 

Except he wasn't. 

For the first time, the truth of this statement hit Remus with full and undeniable force. Although his logical mind had not been presented with any fresh evidence, he at that moment held absolutely no doubt that Severus Snape was an innocent man. Remus had originally acquiesced to helping Hermione with her project as an easy option when the alternative was moping about his loneliness and being branded lazy and ungrateful by the one person who had seemed to care about his welfare. Now however, he was convinced that it was a cause worth fighting for, and he was filled with a determination and vigour that he had not felt for months.

Severus Snape was a good and true man - an unsung hero of the war who had sacrificed everything for the cause, even his own name and safety in the peacetime that followed. He had done the hardest thing of all - not been prepared to die, but been prepared to kill the person who was in many ways the only loving father he had known, at that person's own orders. He had stood brave and strong, seeing his mission through to the very end without a waver or a crack in the facade, despite having no hope of thanks or reprieve. He was an admirable and remarkable man, and Remus found himself in awe.

In addition to that, Remus found himself somewhat infatuated. He had always been attracted to independent and clever types - first Lily, then Sirius, to name a couple. Severus had a formidable brain and he would never bow to public opinion or worry about what people thought about him. That was a quality that Remus had long admired in others, - probably as it was one that he so sorely lacked. 

Remus also found that Severus fitted pretty well with his notions of attractiveness; he was tall and elegant, impeccably dressed and although his features would never be pretty, they held an intensity and magnetism that Remus could practically feel, if only from the depths of his own imagination. He mused that it was difficult to know exactly what lay beneath Severus' customary black robes, but Remus suspected a lithe and toned figure and smooth pale skin. He could feel his heart accelerating from the mere thought.

On top of all that, Remus had recently discovered quite how much of Severus' character lay beneath the surface. He was witty and amusing, studious and careful, and most amazingly, he was capable of poetic and long-lasting tender feelings that were never, as far as Remus could tell, given the light of day. Remus wondered what had happened to Severus since the days of his schoolboy heartache - had Severus ever had a serious relationship, and if so, who was the other party, and why did it end? How had Severus' difficult adult life changed and shaped him, and was that romantic and sensitive boy still existing there beneath the grim facade?

Remus reflected that even though he had known Severus Snape for nearly all of his life, he still knew very little about him. However, he now had a strong desire to find out everything that he could, and luckily he also had the perfect opportunity to do just that.


	3. Part the Third

**Part Three**

Following his unexpected revelation, Remus spent several days ploughing through the numerous books and documents in the Ministry's collection. He tried to remain focussed on the task that Hermione had set, but often could not help himself from gazing through the photographs with interest and mounting affection when his eyes ached from reading. Remus found that he was taking more and more copies of documents home with him, as they could provide company and comfort when he would otherwise have been alone. There was also now a pair of black button eyes gazing kindly from Remus' bedside table; on his second trip to the Ministry store-room Remus had taken pity on Bobo, who was lying neglected in piles of old blankets, and decided that the slightly-balding velveteen teddy bear really deserved a better home. He found the old toy rather endearing, and it gave Remus a welcome sense of connection to have something to which Severus had clearly been so attached. Indeed, Remus was increasingly becoming an authority on the subject of Severus Snape, and was enjoying the occupation more than even he would acknowledge.

After he had finished the school books, the collection returned increasingly slim pickings of personal titbits. The period between Snape's eighteenth and twenty-fifth years was completely uncharted (Remus repressed several shudders when he wondered why that might be), and the silence was broken thereafter only by an official letter of appointment to the Potions professorship at Hogwarts. Following that came several advanced Potions tomes and journals, several of which contained articles by Severus. They were heavily annotated, but the annotations tended to be strictly work-related. A few people were mentioned in passing, but when Remus checked, they turned out to be the editors of such publications or fellow contributors, and there was no indication that the dealings there were anything other than professional and distant. 

If Hermione was correct, thought Remus, someone was currently receiving subliminal messages about proofs of innocence and of Dumbledore's plotting - perhaps the location of a magical affidavit or a secretly stored Pensieve full of silvery threads. Remus was becoming increasingly impatient to find some clue as to whom that person might be.

Given the rationale behind his mission, Remus found it somewhat ironic that between his days of intense research came nights when he dreamt vividly of a dark and beautiful mystery man - in the souks of Arabia, in Bavarian forests and upon the wide blue ocean. In terms of plot and costuming, the dreams were becoming increasingly outrageous. Once, Remus had been a belly-dancing concubine who gyrated so beautifully he won the sole attention of the crown-prince, on another occasion he had been saved from a spit-roast in the company of tropical cannibals by a dashing young pirate. Not once was the man's identity discernable when he woke, but every time Remus was more convinced that Severus Snape was the subject that his psyche seemed to so enjoy, and for some - or perhaps myriad - reasons was becoming the subject of a deep-seated fascination.

He was careful however, to remember that this new-found enthralment was strictly one-way. Snape, wherever he was, had absolutely no idea that Remus was working for his exoneration. Further, Remus reminded himself, Severus would most probably find him in no way attractive - physically, mentally or emotionally. No, Remus was firm with his wandering mind - the interest that he was fostering was clearly just for his own benefit - perhaps a side-effect of his recent collapsed attempt at marriage to a wholly unsuitable girl. He did not chastise himself too harshly though; the dreams gave him something to hold on to, and something to feel at night, when the world otherwise seemed cold and lonely. 

Since his departure from the Weasley household, Remus had had little contact with his fellow members of The Order. Everyone was still busy trying to rebuild their lives from what remained after the war, and Remus felt sure that he was _persona non gratis_ for failing to be the fall-man after Nymphadora’s affair. He had however received a brief letter from Tonks, five days after what would have been their wedding. She apologised to him once again, and said that she would be fine – apparently a friend from Auror college had offered her a place to stay in France until the baby was born. Thereafter, she would claim to be the widow of a war hero, and given some subtle loopholes in Ministry paperwork, no-one would be any the wiser. On reading this, Remus had felt some sense of closure, and any residual feelings of guilt somewhat subsided. 

His work on the innocence of one Severus Snape had therefore become a new and exciting focus, not merely a distraction, and he had applied his full resolve and intelligence to the task, now thoroughly believing Hermione’s claims and keen to play his part in the course of justice. Whether this enthusiasm was purely for moral reasons, Remus was unsure, and he chose not to examine that question too closely.

Hermione had kept in touch over the past weeks, regularly sending owls to ask after Remus' progress and to enquire as to whether any interesting hints or nuggets of information had come out of his studies. Her side of the project - whatever that was exactly - was going well apparently, and she said she looked forward to telling Remus all about it when the process had come to fruition. Remus had found himself unable to reply in the affirmative to her questions, as he honestly had not found anything that he thought would be helpful. The fact that he himself had gained a remarkable insight, fondness and attraction for Severus seemed completely irrelevant, and also far too embarrassing to actually mention, given the complete lack of actual contact that had taken place.

His search had now spanned nearly three weeks. Sitting on the floor of his Spartan living room, Remus found that he had only one box of papers left to explore and he felt his heart clench coldly when he reflected that the modest pile now in front of him was the only thing remaining between himself and complete failure. The remaining documents were the most recent - things that covered the time of the second war and led right up until Severus' flight from Hogwarts. The Aurors had already examined them carefully of course, but they had been looking for very different types of clue - the papers had yielded nothing about Voldemort or the Death Eaters, and they would have probably been repulsed by anything that looked either human or personal belonging to Severus Snape.

Remus found that most of the documents within the box were just as disappointing as everything else from Severus' adult life - grade lists from mock exams, house-point tallies and patrol timetables. However, just as he was nearing the bottom of the pile and despondency was beginning to set in for good, Remus found a neatly handwritten document that caused his breath catch in his throat. He read it slowly, trying to absorb every detail:

> _Dear Reader,_
> 
> _Life is a strange and obtuse mistress. I am surprised to still be here on earth to write this - all was supposed to have ended in blood and fury some time ago. I had primed myself for that eventuality, but it was not the case, and I find myself here wondering how to salvage an existence when none had been allowed for; how to forge a life when none had been planned._
> 
> _My options seem constrained; I could hide and flee forever, but that would leave nothing but a tired husk to walk the streets; something even less alive and true than the mere spirit that I thought would remain. My survival is an unexpected gift, and now I must embrace it and learn to appreciate what being alive can truly mean. I now realise that my options are constrained only by the constraints that sit upon my own heart._
> 
> _To lift these limits upon what my life can be, I must look at the past gravely. Some of my choices have been bad ones. I make no excuses for those aberrant teenage years but can at least be clear that my motivations were ignorance and greed, not true evil. I am lucky to have realised the horror of the path upon which I trod before it was too late, and have now repaid my sins in more minute cruelty than any imprisonment. Although I may never receive forgiveness, I have paid my due, and choose to owe the world no more tears._
> 
> _My only hope now is to be true to the life that I had wanted to lead, - the life that was shelved so long ago when the world first turned black. I hope to reawaken the seed of that life and live it to full. It is a life that centres upon love._
> 
> _This is perhaps an unexpected statement. People think me to be a cold and unfeeling character, and on the surface, they are of course right. My existence has forced a barrenness upon my spirit and my countenance has been none too friendly, to say the least. For that, I am sorry._
> 
> _I simply wish for it to be known that I have loved and that I do love still. It is a love that has never seen daylight, and one would imagine it never will. A love that has been arrested by circumstance and made to lie dormant, but has never died. An immature love that has never had the chance to establish and blossom, and even a love that has manifested itself badly, in frustrated spitefulness. For that, I am more sorry than words can say._
> 
> _Perhaps one day my words will reach the ears for which they are intended. It would be wondrous indeed if my love could be fostered and one day returned. His love and his love alone would warm my cold heart and let it truly live for the first time._
> 
> _Yours eternally,_
> 
> _Severus Snape_

Cradling the parchment in his hands, Remus blinked back the tear that was threatening to escape from his left eye. He had never before read something so honest and poignant, and scanned the letter several times before slowly placing it to one side. How sad it was that someone's life had been so arrested and so brutally sculpted by circumstance. Remus had suffered as a result of the wars, yes, but the sacrifices he had made paled against those that had been forced upon Severus. Remus had always had a trusted circle of friends and comrades, and he had always managed to keep the integrity of his own feelings, - indeed, often luxuriating in their development and interplay with others'. All was gone now, but he still very grateful for that formative romance with Lily and those passionate youthful fumblings with Sirius. His sense of love had been fostered and given the chance to explore as was right and proper, making him a rounded adult at heart, however world-weary he had latterly become. Without those opportunities and that safety, life would have seemed barren indeed.

The identity of Severus' unrequited love was not mentioned but Remus felt the letter before him was the closest thing he might have to a clue. It seemed clear that the person in question would be the one that Severus would have tried to contact using Dormito Somnium, and Severus' chance of freedom would now hang upon whether or not the object of his affection was receptive to that distant message. Upon thinking that, Remus felt an acute pang of sympathy for Severus’ plight. The school-book notes had been touching, but even as he became enthralled in the story that unfolded there, the scenario was viewed through a golden prism of time and distance. This letter was different - it was merely weeks old and shook Remus with its sense of immediacy. It showed that Severus was feeling lovelorn and hopeful of rescue, _right now_ , and that at this very minute he was trying to build a life from the tatters that remained.

Even while he was invigorated with these thoughts, Remus felt strangely numb, perhaps even disappointed. He reflected that the whole story was unfolding so far from his own remit, and he was standing silently on the sidelines as a dumb spectator, if not a voyeur. That notion upset him more than it had any right to, and Remus wondered why he suddenly felt proprietorial over Snape's fate. However, Remus also reasoned that he had absolutely no grounds upon which to _expect_ an involvement, and he vowed to be noble and do the right thing. He had no idea whom the letter could mean, but perhaps a different mind might.

With that, Remus scribbled a note to Hermione and sent it off with his scruffy post owl: "I have found a potential lead - please come asap."

He barely had time to sit down before the quiet of his flat was interrupted by the crack of an apparation into the front room. "Hello, Remus!" Hermione called brightly, "What do you have to show me?"

"You didn't waste any time," he teased, although he was feeling secretly glad not to have been left time to brood. "I found this letter. It seems very recent, and it’s the closest thing to a lead that I have managed to find."

Hermione took the letter from his outstretched hand and seemed to scan its contents more quickly than even she would usually read. "Marvellous!" she beamed, "So, you know where all this is going? You seem quite pleased." 

Hermione's wide-eyed prompting and nodding made Remus feel as if he was lacking a crucial piece of information. "Well...errr...I'm pleased to have found something that might be of use, of course," he hazarded, "But I'm afraid I have no idea who the potential recipient of the messages might be."

Hermione furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, as if she were dealing with a small child who had just discovered the joy of practical jokes. A pause hung in the air while she seemed to wait for Remus to amend his last statement, but when no correction was forthcoming her expression changed to one of exasperation. 

“I’m sorry Remus, but we were really hoping that you would have worked it out by now. Open wide.” With lighting-quick movements, Hermione grasped Remus’ nose and popped a small orange pill into his open mouth. Everything suddenly went black.

Remus found himself alone in a dark forest. Unseen animals made hooting noises and caused the undergrowth to rustle just out sight in an ominous fashion. The nearby tree branches were dense and hung low such that Remus had to duck and weave to walk between them, and a crescent moon shone over the whole scene, casting an eerie white glow over the twilit woods. He automatically made his way forward through the thicket, continuing until he sighted a rudimentary path up ahead, through the trees.

A lone figure could be seen walking along the track - an elderly woman wrapped in a thick black cloak and supporting herself on a gnarled stick. Remus watched her progress for a few moments and then the figure suddenly stopped moving and fixed her piercing gaze upon Remus, extending a long and bony finger in his direction as a summons.

Remus found himself moving forwards toward the old woman, even though he was not conscious of walking. The trees and shrubs seemed to part leaving a clear passage before him, and the crone smiled an ugly toothless grin as he came closer. She drew a shiny metallic object from the recesses of her cape and offered it to Remus. He was about to refuse it on principal but then realised that the object she was proffering was a bar of his favourite type of chocolate - dark and spiced with candied orange, and encased in stiff red foil. Without further thought he accepted it eagerly.

"That's right, my pretty. Have a bite!" she crooned. He removed the silver paper and eagerly bit off a corner of its tempting contents, expecting to be hit by the familiar sensations of cocoa and spice assaulting his tongue. However, a strange and alarming paralysis took hold and Remus felt himself collapse onto the damp forest floor, inwardly panicking but unable to scream or move a muscle. 

His eyes were immobile in their sockets, so the witch bobbed in and out of his line of vision as she leered over his static form, cackling harshly. "That will teach to survive," she hissed, "How dare you? How dare you still be alive after all that has passed? The others gave their lives! They were brave; they were glorious. They look across from the other side at you in disappointment, wondering whether Remus Lupin will ever do something worthwhile - something courageous - but James and Lily and Sirius are always disappointed.

“No, you hid at the sidelines, pretending to help from home. Call yourself a Gryffindor?! Even when you were offered the chance of helping someone far better than you - and worse, a girl in need - you refused. You could have agreed and given some meaning to your paltry existence, but no, you were too selfish.

“You must be punished for your inactivity; for your passive resistance and failure. I shall show you where your present course leads and you can stay in your state of torpor for all time. You shall be forever still - never feeling, never moving, never interacting. I shall leave you numb and motionless like this forever."

With that, the witch spat on the ground, turned on her heel and marched away. Remus could hear her receding footsteps as the crunch of gravel and the squelch of forest mulch became quieter, then faded away completely. All was silent save the rustling of the trees and the hooting of birds, and Remus was overcome with wretchedness and despair.

It was difficult for him to tell how long he lay there, immobile and alone. The passing of light and dark seemed erratic in its cycles, but after a while he could feel leaves and twigs accumulating over his body and the perching of small birds that seemed to think him to be a fallen, dead log. 

One morning however, when he had thoroughly given up hope, Remus heard the approach of many footsteps and some high-pitched querulous voices. He wanted to cry out for rescue, but of course, could not. Luckily though, the beings came closer, and finally entered the clearing in which he lay. Remus heard exclamations: "What's this?," "She's beautiful!," "We must save her," and as they peered over him, he saw a band of house-elves, each different in their expression and countenance and all wearing outfits of soft bark, leaves and moss. Many tiny hands lifted him, and Remus saw that he was being carried through the forest, away from the rough path on which the witch had trod, and into a bright clearing.

The elves laid him on a raised bed of silk cushions that was trimmed with evergreen leaves and flowers. They arranged his hands upon his chest clasping a small bouquet and protected him from the elements and wildlife with a glass case that perched atop the plinth. The elves kept a vigil at his side, alternately weeping for his plight, trying to calculate a way that he could be reanimated or grumbling about the tediousness of the watch.

Some time later however, a great kafuffle seemed to spread among the elves, and it became clear that a stranger had entered their midst. Remus could not see the man, but his voice was dark and silken, sinuous and delightful, reminding Remus of tropical midnight and spiced-orange dark chocolate. The stranger seemed to be reasoning with the elves, and Remus heard snatches of the conversation: "Prince from far away", "Here to rescue", "Fairest slumber". He was then aware of the elves lifting the glass beneath which he lay. A cool breeze and gentle sunlight played across his face, and then the stranger bowed over Remus with a look of determination and tenderness in his eyes.

At that moment, Remus was completely sure he knew who the man was, and everything seemed right with the world; perfect and in place. His soul soared as the man gazed into his eyes and faintly smiled, before bending further and brushing his lips tentatively upon Remus'. Gradually, Remus felt the curse begin to lift, and he could respond as the man kissed him once more, deeper this time, and more lingering. Their mouths melded passionately, and Remus could feel an exquisite invasion of tongue as he closed his eyes to revel in the pleasure he was feeling.

Remus moved his arms to embrace his lover, relishing the svelte form and warmth that came through his clothes. He tangled his fingers in the man's hair, urging him closer as they continued to explore one another with lips and tongue, drowning in the intensity of the moment. Indeed, the experience was so powerful that Remus felt the need to flutter his eyes open once more, to stop himself from being irretrievably lost in the delightful kiss.

When he did this however, Remus felt surprised. His every nerve ending was still burning with desire and affection, but the world seemed somehow different - starker, brighter, and the tendrils of the beautiful man's dark hair were in sharper relief. His lover gradually drew away, and Remus realised that he was laying in the bedroom of his own flat, and the man who now gazed down at him was Severus Snape.

Several moments passed as they just stared at one another - patient, confused and quizzical as their lips glowed red and moist with passion. Remus' mind seemed to lack any coherent thought, so lost as he was in tides of affection and want, and an overwhelming feeling of perfect, glowing _rightness_.

Finally, Severus' lips quirked at one corner and he raised an imperious brow. "I trust the last one was sufficiently literal, even for you?"

Remus struggled to shed the layers of fog from his brain, but slowly his memories came back into focus. The project with Hermione. The boxes and that final letter. _Dormito Somnium._ And here was Severus Snape, the man he had been thinking about, dreaming about, standing before him in his own bedroom, his mouth flushed with kisses and an expectant expression on his face. "You...you have been influencing my dreams!" Remus managed.

"Congratulations Lupin. Ten points to Gryffindor for eventual realisation," Snape said smoothly.

"But what are you doing here now?" Remus knew he sounded somewhat slow, but he really wanted to get the basic facts established, nice and clearly, before the world made any more lurching changes of perspective.

To his surprise, Severus actually looked slightly taken aback by that question. However, he quickly recovered his poise, and stood up very straight, mustering his most indignant glare. "Among other things, I have come to reclaim my teddy bear. Bobo has been very lonely of late, and I don't much trust your parenting skills."

Remus glanced at the dark brown, velveteen bear who was still sitting neatly on his bedside table and then at Severus, whose eyes flamed in a way that had struck fear into the hearts of many lesser men. No words occurred to him, but instead he could feel the corners of own his mouth pulling upwards and his diaphragm beginning to quiver. 

Without thinking, Remus burst into a surge of laughter. The joy of his amusement spread outwards from his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes, and as he laughed, everything in the world seemed to have fallen into place as it should. For the first time in perhaps years, Remus felt free to simply _be,_ and to experience a moment without feeling tense, or numb, or expectant, or inadequate.

Amazingly, Severus' glare then faded and broke into a smile. Not however, the sarcastic, cunning smile that people were accustomed to, but a genuine, open smile that spoke of fondness and hope and relief. He too began to laugh - not as animatedly as Remus, but genuinely and with pleasure. Remus stood up from the bed and approached Severus with open arms. They embraced, and the waves of laughter were magnified as they passed from one man to the other.

Finally, they parted, and Remus excused himself to wash his face in the bathroom, all the while feeling thoroughly dazed and wondering whether he was actually still asleep. He pinched himself a few times and took several deep breaths, trying to find an explanation for what had just happened. None was forthcoming however, so Remus tried to at least clarify exactly where the gaps in the story lay. When he emerged, he found Severus seated on the sofa in the living room, with crossed legs and having taken off his heavy black outer robe. Remus took a seat opposite him, feeling pleased that his mind was now in better order having had a few moments to sort out the questions that he wanted to ask.

Remus settled himself under Snape's intense gaze, took a deep breath and began. "First of all Severus, I'm stunned to find you here, and there are several things that I'd appreciate answers about. But before that, there are a couple of things that I should make clear. You may or may not know that I have been helping Hermione with her plan to clear your name following the events of the war, and as a result of this, I do indeed believe that you are innocent of murder and that you were following Dumbledore's plan all along." Remus had decided that although he was at risk of sounding too solemn, a direct opening gambit would provide his best chance of a successful conversation, and continued in that vein, "I want to apologise for ever having believed otherwise."

"Thank you, most gratifying," said Severus, but his sarcasm contained little venom and not a small amount of amusement.

Remus was sure not to be put off course however, and having dispatched the formal part of the conversation he became rather more indignant. "This situation doesn't make sense though! The dreams I was having were nothing to do with Wizengamot evidence. Why all the fairy tales?"

"I thought they might appeal to your childlike brain," replied Severus smoothly, "The dreams had to be sufficiently memorable to give them the best possible chance of transmission."

"So why was _I_ always the princess?"

"Because you're prettier than me. And you'd be hard pushed to get anyone to argue against that." Severus raised his eyebrows in challenge. When none came, he continued. "I laid down the scenario and the basic plots, but you added the - _embellishments_ \- yourself. Its amazing how much passion people can have stored at the back of their mind, without even knowing it." At that, Severus pursed his lips, part mockingly, part rakishly, and Remus could feel the scarlet blood rising to his cheeks as images of his dark knight, sun-kissed sailor and handsome prince quickly flashed before his eyes and seduced him with their every glance.

Remus could in no way deny that he was drawn to Severus, - physically, mentally and emotionally - following the events of the past month. In fact, simply sitting there across from him on the sofa was enough to accelerate his heartbeat and give him thoughts of what might lay beneath those black robes. Also, he could tell that his attraction was more than lust alone. He had gained a great understanding of Severus as a character, and every titbit he had discovered had simply fuelled a thirst to know more; to understand; to be close. He could not quite believe however that the attraction was reciprocal. There was clearly a subtlety to the potion and the plan as a whole that he was missing.

"Ok, I know how Dormito Somnium works..." Remus ventured, "But why exactly was I the necessary recipient of the Legilimancy, and why did you wait until the eve of my wedding to put it into practice?"

Severus rolled his eyes in despair. "It might surprise you to know, Lupin, that this is actually a very difficult spell, which cannot be performed at the drop of a hat or upon a whim. When I realised that you were actually going to go through with such a terribly dunderheaded mistake, my horror gave the magic the extra push it needed to cross the barrier between one consciousness and the next."

"Oh." Remus looked rather bashful but couldn't bring himself to argue the point. Instead he asked, "But how did you know about that - I thought you were in exile from all civilisation?"

"Hermione told me, of course," Severus replied.

"You have been in contact with Hermione?"

"Well, naturally. How else would she have cleared my name and put a halt to the Wizengamot proceedings?"

"Well, yes..." Remus began to concede, but quickly changed his tune, "Hang on! You say that Hermione has _already_ cleared your name? Surely it's still a work in progress. Why else would I have been looking through all of your papers for clues?"

"Oh my goodness." Severus threw up his hands in mock-exasperation and sighed theatrically. "To make this simple for you I will start at the very beginning. Right. I never thought I would say this, but Hermione has actually been most satisfactory. She realised that something was amiss after I saved her life in the final battle, and devoted the following few months to researching the case. Luckily, Albus had left his testimony in a Pensieve concealed within the fabric of Hogwarts castle, and she applied her vast experience of sneaking around the school to finding it. She seems to have worked pretty tirelessly on my behalf compiling the evidence - something of a pet project if you will."

"You had never struck me a kind a surrogate house-elf before," interjected Remus, sporting a cheeky grin.

"House Elf? What are you blathering about Lupin?" A stern glance earned Severus a placating gesture from Remus, who quickly schooled his features into a neutral position. "Now, if you would kindly allow me to continue? Good. The court hearing happened about a month ago now. I was cleared of all charges, and accepted a generous payment in exchange for keeping a low profile until the Ministry have compiled their official story on the matter - to make it look as if they were in fact, never wrong. That gave me plenty of time to stop worrying about being hunted like a beast and to pursue other...interests." Severus smirked, and regarded Remus as if he were a particularly tasty morsel. "That is of course, where you come in."

Remus' mind was reeling from this new version of events. "So everything Hermione told me was untrue then?"

"Practically everything, yes. The whole scheme involving you was planned between the two of us. My inclinations on the subject would have probably never seen the light of day without her _charming_ nagging, but after a while, I decided that having survived spying in two dreadful wars, pursuing a man who I have been in love with for longer than I care to count should surely not be too daunting a prospect.'" Severus made this statement in such clinical, clipped tones that Remus almost failed to grasp its meaning. However, before he had an opportunity to process that declaration, Severus continued in his matter-of-fact tone, "Dormito Somnium seemed a acceptable way of making the first _enquiry_ if you will, while remaining undetected. I must admit, the success of that method was even more impressive than I had hoped." Severus' smirk widened further, and Remus could feel another blush creeping up his cheeks. 

"After that - and of course, the aforementioned disaster aversion," continued Severus, "it seemed logical to introduce you to the idea itself, and that is, quite obviously where the books and papers that the Ministry had so helpfully catalogued came in. Naturally, I wouldn't have been careless enough to leave anything tactical lying around for the Aurors to read, but everything else was, well - just as it came. " Severus blanched in a way that would have seemed like bashfulness on anyone else as he referred to the personal notes and diaries that he had chosen to share. He quickly regained his poise however, declaring, "That move also clearly had the desired effect, which was backed up further by the original tactic. I’m therefore pleased to say the plan was successful on all counts."

Remus felt somewhat awkward, like a small, transparent creature under a Muggle microscope, and had the distinct impression that the whole scenario was entirely surreal. Here he was, in an personal and emotional conversation with a man for whom he had developed a deep and passionate fascination despite having not seen said man for over a year, being told in no uncertain terms the ways in which he had been manipulated and the exact state of his own mind. In any conventional interaction, he would at least have had right of disclosure over his innermost thoughts, but now the workings and reactions of his feelings were being laid bare with utmost confidence, accuracy, and _first-hand knowledge_ , damn it!

The strangest thing of all, thought Remus, was that he didn't actually mind. Indeed, far from brooding about the invasion of his privacy, Remus was busy coming to terms with the novel situation, and through that peculiar haze came a sense of great elation and triumph. Severus had admitted, in all but direct language, that he loved him.

That fact wafted through Remus' psyche like a strange and exotic tropical bird, but one that he wanted to catch and hear sing forever. Granted, the whole idea had come upon him totally by surprise - and subconsciously at that - but it sat with such empirical rightness and clarity in his mind that he did not need to debate what he wanted to happen next. His course was clear; he, Remus Lupin was meant to be with Severus Snape.

A very large smile spread across Remus' face as he made this realisation, and Severus furrowed his brow slightly in response. There was however, just one thing left from the story that Remus wanted to know. He cleared his somewhat tightened throat and broke the silence, "It makes sense that the documents you left on view were mainly decades old, Severus, but the final letter - that was recent..."

"It was planted, naturally," replied Severus, with exaggerated bombast. He then paused and looked Remus straight in the eye as he spoke again in a lower tone, "But I meant every word of it; about you." 

A heavy pause hung between them. "Believe it or not, I'm pleased," said Remus, finally, "This has obviously all happened very quickly, but...I think I might be falling in love with you, Severus."

"Well, yes - I know!" Severus exclaimed in a tone that dripped with irony and exasperation. However, in opposition to this boldness, every muscle in Severus' body seemed to relax as he heard Remus' declaration and he let out a deep breath that he had probably been unaware of holding. Severus reached across to take Remus' hand and motioned them both to their feet. "I honestly think we have talked enough for the time being, don't you?" he said, while cupping Remus' face in his hand and stroking gently across the cheekbone.

"Yes," said Remus simply, and he drew Severus down into a tender and passionate kiss - gentle and chaste at first, but deepening with such fire that showed they both hoped this was the second kiss of many, many more to come.

*****

_One year later_

Remus lay still on the bed that was most certainly his; his and Severus', and definitely couldn't sleep. Pale moonlight streamed through the Gothic arched windows and cast a silvery glow upon the contents of their chamber that made everything metallic, luminous, and full of promise. Excitement bubbled within Remus like a child waiting for Christmas.

Across the room hung two sets of matrimonial dress robes - green velvet with silver trimming for Remus, and the deep red with golden braid that Severus had assented to wear. They were perfectly pressed and reflected the faultless organisation with which every detail of the following day had been planned; Remus supposed that Hermione would never deliver anything less. Indeed, it had been extremely kind of her to assist with the wedding, and she had been careful to plan everything according to their tastes. The ceremony was to be held in a Renaissance Italian castle, safely away from prying eyes and followed by a traditional Umbrian celebratory meal and a long and relaxing honeymoon in the countryside. The rings were timeless golden bands, the decorations fragrant herbs and branches, and there were to be no attendants - save, that is, for an old and balding teddy bear who would be secreted in an inside pocket.

Remus considered the plans once more in his mind with anticipation, and brittle, quivering thoughts. He ran through the place of each article about him once again, but as his eyes glanced about the room they came to rest not upon an object, but upon the object of his affection. Severus was soundly asleep, his expression relaxed, and his long hair spilling over the pillow in inky black pools. He was curled gently on his side, breathing deeply and regularly as if calm and content. 

At this sight, an overwhelming glow surged within Remus. No matter how lovely or horrid tomorrow - or any tomorrow - would be, they had found happiness and love, and that was indeed a remarkable thing.

Remus lay down and nestled closer to Severus. He drifted off to sleep peacefully, confident that of all the stories in the world, he was already living the one that he wanted to dream.


End file.
